


The Emissary

by Catthra



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Black Widow - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Returns, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky is out of cryo, Emissary's Metal Leg, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Gangs, Healing, Hydra (Marvel), Injury Recovery, My First AO3 Post, Near Death Experiences, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Female Character, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Prosthesis, Short Chapters, The Emissary is from Hydra, Violence, Vision (Marvel) - Freeform, Wanda Maximoff - Freeform, gosh i hope this is good, natasha romanov - Freeform, steve rogers - Freeform, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catthra/pseuds/Catthra
Summary: When Bucky Barnes is under cryostasis and the Avengers are separated, Steve and Natasha are sent on a mission that goes horribly wrong all because of a woman under the name of the Emissary. The crew suspect a connection to Hydra's experimenting and revive Bucky out of cryo for an explanation.What they don't know is that she is even more dangerous than he was during his brain washed state. Underneath a reputation of being harsh and a mask of toughness and indifference is a woman who used to be kind and honest. Bucky now has someone he can relate to and share the pain he had endured, but can he help her return to her true self?(In this fic Steve and Tony reunite to help New York from common crime as a segway to cooperating as the Avengers again)





	1. Failed Mission

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and I hope you like it! Any criticism is welcome as long as it's phrased in a constructive manner because sticks and stones can break my bones but words can raise an army haha. As long as I get some kind of feedback, I'll try my best to update this story. Please enjoy!

        That day when James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes was put under cryogenic sleep once again, he had no idea that someone the same as him was still out there trying to find themselves in a world without orders. After HYDRA was taken down by the avengers, bringing SHIELD with it, he wanted to wait until they found a way to eradicate his brainwashing and forget the things he had done. Would he have chosen that frozen fate if he knew there was someone like him out there? Who knows. He could have gone on missions with her in the past that he’d have forgotten. Had the Winter Soldier met her before, would Bucky have recognized her in a crowd? Nevertheless, life continued on without answers and without him.  
        The week after he was put under, the Stark towers were contacted asking if they were interested in a gang bust who were notorious for their crime worldwide. A couple phone calls later, Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov were both gearing up in the tower that night. Although it was supposed to be their rest time, neither of them wanted to be left out of action and Tony made the valuable point that their reputations needed a boost after their civil conflict. Natasha, suited in black with a pistol and gadgets strapped to her waist, leaned against the doorframe where Steve was putting on his helmet and polishing his shield. He knew she was there and the assassin was aware of this perceptions, though none of them spoke until he turned to leave.  
        “Steve,” Natasha said, waiting until he looked up at her. “How are you feeling?”  
        “About what?” He asked, tugging on his gloves absentmindedly. She crossed her arms at him.  
        “Bucky. He used to be your partner right? Are you sure you’re up to this so soon?”  
        “Look Natasha, I respect Buck’s decision. You know I can’t stay still forever. I don’t know how soon he’ll be back.” Steve looked at her with a pained expression. “It won’t do me any good waiting around for something to happen.” Then he paused and smiled from the corner of his mouth. “Time flies by when you’re having fun, right?” Natasha laughed.  
        “Yeah, there’s nothing like a good drug bust.” They both laughed and walked out into the hall where Tony was standing with a tablet of his own design. They were debriefed and loaded along with their weapons into a black van. The moonlight and streetlights lit the way until a certain point where there was no light, shaded by the buildings and the absence of public light. The foreboding feeling radiating around them was nothing new but something seemed a little off. There wasn’t anybody out to see their car which sent alarms off in Steve’s head since he knew that in his time there were scouts to radio back to the bosses when cops were around. He glanced at Natasha who looked down at a phone linked to a cousin of Redwing’s design, Sam Wilson’s drone, who was scanning the area for people. She seemed to notice the same thing and looked up at her partner. They shared a look with one another before their escort car slammed to a halt, nearly knocking the two over from the force. Steve grabbed his shield and Natasha her gun. They opened the sliding privacy panel to see the driver vacant of the front seat. The air was silent with tension. The faraway sound of a dog barking was the only sign that something was happening in their vicinity.  
        “Where is he?” Natasha asked. Steve reached into the panel and felt the car seat. He drew in a breath and brought his arm back in with blood. The second they saw that, they agreed with only their eyes to bust out of the van back to back, looking all around for the assailant. There was one sign that someone had been there and it was the driver dead on the ground, a bullet through his head. “The driver must have seen someone. He slammed on the brakes before he was killed. It’s either he wasn’t supposed to be the one dead or someone knew we were coming here and staged this.”  
        “Smart ones, ain’t cha?” Natasha and Steve whirled around to meet the voice. It was one of the high ranking people under the gang’s boss. Tear tattoos and a silver grill, a black hood propped up over his head accentuated his grisly features, skin scarred and eyes a misty swirl of mischief. Natasha’s gun was pointed straight at his forehead. Just then a figure eluded by Steve’s superhuman senses burst forth from the shadows and fell onto Natasha’s gun, ripping it out of her hand and throwing her to the ground. She writhed in pain, holding her side in silence with only slight grunts indicating her condition. A gun was pointed to Steve’s forehead by the masked black figure. The first thought that ran through his head was that it was Bucky but he reminded himself that it couldn’t be him. They too had a black paint of sorts covering the skin around their eyes and forehead.  
        “Meet the Emissary,” the man said, stepping forward cockily to place a hand on the person’s shoulder. “She’s just as deadly as your precious little Bucky, Captain America.” He sneered at Steve’s shocked reaction. Even Natasha looked up to Steve in alarm. She grunted and lifted herself up on one arm.  
        “So, you’re telling us that… that the Emissary had the serum too?” She croaked out. The man laughed, a stark contrast to the steely gaze directed from the Emissary, too much like Bucky.  
        “How the hell do you think she broke one of the toughest assassins just now. Natasha Romanov, brought to her knees. Hah, what a pretty sight.” He sneered, bending down to gloat in her face. She suckerpunched him and the Emissary drew a knife from her thigh and aimed it towards Natasha. The women eyed each other like they were ready to attack but the man put his hand up from his bent over position. “No.” The man commanded, nursing a bloody nose as he rose and sending a glare to both of them. “Эмиссар, убить. Это порядок.” Something in the air changed and the Emissary attacked with full force, punching and kicking with a fury that sent both heros flying before they knew what was going on.  
        While he was distracted by the sudden pain in his jaw, Steve’s neck was suddenly wrapped in cord, choking him effectively as he struggled on the ground. His shield, as he realized, was stuck inside a brick wall beside him and it just hit him that the Emissary threw it there. Dirt and gravel gritted in his teeth as he struggled, jaw clenched. The cold, dead look in the Emissary’s eyes and her thick lashes brought sick waves to Steve’s chest as he remembered a time when Bucky held him in a similar position. He couldn’t find purchase on the cord around his neck and he couldn’t focus on much other than trying to breathe. It seemed like minutes before her weight was off him in a blur of darkness. Natasha helped him sit up as he gasped and choked for breath but then she was off again, punched in the face by the Emissary. Her moves were like lightning, elusive and hard to predict but incredibly strong, especially in the night. The Emissary’s very presence was like a good morning slap to the face.  
Still coughing, Steve could only watch as she stood over Natasha who was most likely seeing stars by the stirring of her eyes as she tried to focus. The slim but strong woman put her right leg on Natasha’s as she grabbed it in an attempt to bring her down. Instead, there was a sickening crack as the Emissary pressed down and suddenly Natasha screamed out in pain. Steve brought himself to his feet and tackled the Emissary off her, managing to get a few good punches and kicks before she wriggled away. She dug into a pocket of the black vest around her rib cage and threw ninja stars at them with startling accuracy. They whipped through the air silent and deadly like playing cards. One lodged itself into Steve’s left shoulder and he cried out. It was then, through the pain, that he realized that there was no way they could beat the Emissary without someone dying first. Natasha was in critical condition and he sure as hell didn’t feel too well.  
        To add more urgency to the situation, the Emissary soon had Steve on the ground with a dislocated shoulder. He kicked her away and dislodged his shield from the wall and used it to defend himself from another vicious attack to the face and neck. As he was shielding his head her steel toed boot caught him in the stomach, winding him temporarily. Steve knew it was time to retreat. He used a counter attack to knee her in the stomach, hitting her with his shield hard enough to push her back.  
Natasha, barely conscious, was suddenly flung over his shoulder and he took off running towards the van they left behind. In hot pursuit, the Emissary grabbed Natasha by the boot and it fell off before the woman could find a good hold on them. He opened the driver door and hefted Natasha into the passenger seat just in time to turn and uppercut the Emissary. Breathing hard, he restarted the van and started off, looking in his back mirror as she was incredibly close to catching up. Luckily, he floored it and took off into the alleyways, his left eye swelling up to the point of not being able to see.  
        They sat in there for a while, both on edge from their humbling experience and stunned by the sheer power of that woman. They didn’t say a thing on the way back other than to speak about their injuries they had incurred. They arrived back to the tower surprisingly safely. He parallel parked on the curb in front of the Stark building and groaned as he got out, going around to the other side to see Natasha opening the door weakly.  
        “You alright?” He asked. She scoffed to herself, looking up at Steve with dried blood on her face.  
        “As alright as a person can be after getting the shit beat out of them.”


	2. Damage Control

        He parallel parked on the curb in front of the Stark building and groaned as he got out, going around to the other side to see Natasha opening the door weakly. “You alright?” He asked. She scoffed to herself, looking up at Steve with dried blood on her face.  
        “As alright as a person can be after getting the shit beat out of them.”

*<><><><><><><>*

        Steve helped her out and put her arm around her shoulder. They didn’t speak as they limped back into the tower and up to the medical floor. In the elevator the fatigued heroes leaned against the walls and thought about what went wrong. The second they entered, however, they found Stark leaning over a table with the head medic. Natasha knocked against the door frame mockingly and they both turned around. Tony looked royally dismayed and the woman’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. The medic gasped and rushed forward with her motherly instincts, taking Natasha’s arm and gingerly leading her to a bed. Tony walked over with a frown pulling his brows down and deepening the lines forming on his face.  
        “What happened out there Cap? Did you finish the mission?” Steve found a bed and sat down. Lingering adrenaline buzzed under his aching skin and his heartbeat throbbed in his injuries. The sudden stench of blood hit him as it filled the room and mixed with the smell of bleach.  
        “Definitely not. We encountered difficulties as soon as we arrived at the site.” Steve thanked another nurse as she rushed in with water and gauze. The brunette set the supplies down. “The driver was killed by someone called the Emissary. We went out to investigate and found the mob boss with her.”  
        “She kicked our butts single-handedly.” Natasha said from her spot on a bed, hissing aloud when the nurse felt her broken leg. “Her leg crushed mine like a twig. I think it was a metal prosthesis like Bucky’s.”  
        “I think she’s another agent from HYDRA, Tony. She had the same look in her eye and everything. He commanded her in Russian and she went off like a bomb.” A male nurse wiped the blood off of Steve carefully and dipped a cotton ball in peroxide to clean the wounds. The sting had him wincing slightly and n order to get better access, Steve peeled off the top part of his suit off as more nurses set to work. He claimed his arm to be dislocated and the nurses set down their items and prepared to shove it back into the socket. He grunted through clenched teeth as they reset it with a crack. The peroxide fumes burned his eyes slightly so he continued the rest of his report with closed eyes as he had his shoulder wound stitched up.  
        “We didn’t last more than ten minutes. It’s like she knew how we worked.” Tony began to pace, a hand rubbing his goatee as he thought.  
        “Damn. You don’t think fragments of HYDRA are still out there?” He took a tablet and began tapping at it incessantly, checking databases and reports that the Black Widow leaked onto the internet.  
        “I guess it’s possible. They had an extensive history with a lot of secrets to keep. Bucky was one of many Winter Soldiers and just because they revealed the other five to him doesn’t mean they didn’t have a sixth one up their sleeve.” Stark looked up from his tablet and at the silence, Steve opened his eyes to see him thinking. He frowned at the look and Tony shared a knowing look with him, both wondering if, in fact, Bucky had heard of such a soldier. Natasha looked away as some doctors reset her leg and clenched her teeth, growling in pain under her breath and gaining the attention of the two men. Steve let out a sigh upon seeing one of their best teammates writhing in pain after what the Emissary had done to her and it almost changed his mind.  
        “Fine. We wake up Bucky we’ll ask him if he knows the woman and if he doesn’t know and wants to go back into cryogenic sleep he will, alright?” Tony grabbed an ice pack in response and threw it to Steve.  
        “First you better ice your face, I bet he won’t like waking up to that messed up mug. I’ll call up Wakanda and tell them to start thawing the ice prince.”

        Two days later, the two Avengers’ injuries were painfully apparent. Steve had a purple bruise on his jaw along with a black eye, cracked- but now healed- rib, and a messed up shoulder. Though he was a supersoldier and could heal quicker it seemed that he could have been a lot worse for wear if he wasn’t. Natasha had a broken cheekbone, head-pounding concussion, and a shattered tibia. She had many bruises all over her body but insisted to go see Bucky in a wheelchair and cast anyways, being the persistent assassin she is. The three of them were loaded into a helicopter and were flown into the country of Wakanda, where Bucky was already waiting in a cell to be told what had happened. They touched down and were immediately greeted by the king and hero of Wakanda, T’challa.  
        “Welcome back, Avengers. James is waiting for you to speak to him in a room inside. Please try not to cause as much destruction as the last time.” His eyes raked along the three of them, mostly talking to Tony and Steve, his eyes softening when he saw Natasha’s poor condition. “Please, come in.” He strode off in the other direction and Steve pushed Natasha along behind him. The humidity outside was different to the cooler interior like a breath of fresh air, though they were walking indoors. The windows looking out to the jungle canopy stretched out on either side of them and it was easy to enjoy the view. Nevertheless, Steve was currently worried about what state Bucky would be in. They stopped in front of a door and T’Challa gestured for them to knock. “If you need any help, I’ll be out here.” Tony nodded and clasped him on the back before knocking on the door.  
        “Come in.” Steve frowned, Bucky sounded worried. They pushed through the door and when they got inside Steve gave his best friend a remorseful look. Bucky’s face was still as strong and as handsome as he had been for years and his hair hung freely as it had been when he had been put back into cryo. His eyes surveyed the three and his brows knit together at the sight of the injured avengers. “What happened? You two look like you were run over by a truck.”  
        “That’s what we woke you up to talk about, Buck.” Steve winced as he leaned against the wall. “Our last mission did not go well because of a woman that you might know. We believe she may have been under Hydra’s control and called the Emissary.” Bucky looked up and blinked rapidly, looking like the name rang a distant bell.  
        “The Emissary,” he whispered to himself, scanning the ground as if the answer laid in the ground.  
        “The person controlling her by command said ‘Эмиссар, убить. Это порядок,’” Natasha added. The mechanics in Bucky’s arm whirred wildly and his eyes widened as he looked up.  
        “Oh my god.” He stood up quickly and Steve heard Tony activate a taser from his suit behind his back, to his disappointment. “No. No no no.”  
        “Bucky,” Steve said, drawing the soldier’s eyes to him. He spoke carefully at the animalistic fear in his eyes. “Who is the Emissary?” Bucky sighed and sat down onto the chair he had rested on, running his human hand through his hair. He shook his head.  
        “If I was a serious threat to you guys then the world is screwed.”


	3. Эмиссар

         “Bucky,” Steve said, drawing the soldier’s eyes to him. He spoke carefully at the animalistic fear in his eyes. “Who is the Emissary?” Bucky sighed and sat down onto the chair he had rested on, running his human hand through his hair. He shook his head.

         “If I was a serious threat to you guys then the world is screwed,” he said, shaking his head. “Every time the Winter Soldier failed a mission they sent the Emissary in to pick up the pieces. If I was supposed to assassinate someone and was compromised, she was sent in to kill everyone who saw me. I was on-site once when she came in to finish the job.” Bucky’s jaw clenched and he rested his elbows on his knees, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. “She is one of the strongest, fastest, and accurate assassins I have ever encountered. With her metal leg she can jump two stories no problem and climb impossible rock faces. I’m pretty sure that they upgraded her prosthetic a lot and she has attachments for just about anything under the sun. The day I saw her for the first and only time she was faced with taking down two whole compounds filled with people. Luckily most of the people weren’t there at the time since it was a day that interns and laborers didn’t have to show up.” Natasha was frowning at this.

         “Did she blow up the buildings,” she asked, “or take out the people stealthily?” Bucky shook his head again.

          “The Emissary took down four whole trees with swings of her leg and pushed them in front of the exit doors. Then she climbed in through a window and massacred the people from the bottom up. The minute she cleared the doors and let people in to secure the place you could see blood leaking down the stairs.” Bucky shivered and put his head in his hands. “It was awful. That’s one of the things I wish I never remembered.” Steve stepped forward and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder as he relived the horrible memories.

        “I’m sorry Buck,” he said. God, now he really wished that he hadn’t woken him up and sent him back into his suffering. Natasha didn’t have any mercy, however. “Do you remember any time that she’d shone a weakness or recognition like you had?” Natasha wheeled forward and watched his reaction. His brows furrowed and he pressed his thumbs into the space in between his brows.

        “I’m not sure…”

        “Wait,” Tony said, stepping out from the corner which he surprisingly had been quiet in. “Why would they send you out if they knew there was a possibility of failure instead of her all the time? That’s what I don’t get right now. Am I the only one thinking it’s a bit strange?” The other three shook their heads in response. “Good, I hate it when I’m out of the loop. They didn’t make you work with her, correct?”

        “No, I barely got to see her,” Bucky replied. “I was in and out of cryo constantly, it was difficult to get a moment to myself.”

        “What if the Emissary was a secret weapon but only because she was unstable?” Steve proposed. There was a moment of silence. Bucky bit the top of his thumb and sat there for a second as the others gave their own ideas. He painfully went through every memory of what would happen just before he was put in cryo.

        “Guys, I think I know why.” The other three stopped conversing about the idea that she had secret powers like Wanda and looked over to him. “I remember hearing a woman’s screams a lot before I was put into cryo. I think it could have been her. What if, somehow, she was able to get her memories back quicker than I was able to? That way they wouldn’t be able to use her as often because they’d have to wipe her constantly. I don’t think that’s cheap.”

        “That’s a good theory, but how can we be sure? A rescue mission on someone that can’t be saved is useless. Besides, she’s already proven herself capable of taking us down.” Steve had a good point there but Bucky sighed and looked up at him with determined eyes. “Everyone can be saved.” He stood up and looked around at the three. “I’m coming with you, I think I can save her from herself.”

~~~

        Two weeks following Bucky’s thawing, Steve was getting suited up again with Bucky and Natasha was staying behind to heal still. She going to be in earpiece if they needed any kind of assistance. In a storage room, Bucky found his old suit from Hydra, picking up the fabric and looking at it like one would a sad memory. The buckles and muzzle scared him. It was a constant reminder of how they had control over him and how they planted a monster inside of him, but he knew it would come in handy. If he could get the Emissary to trust him and talk to him it could open her mind to get the brainwashing out. Bucky suited up and even applied the tactical black chalk around his eyes, a panic rising in his chest that the monster in him would rear its ugly head and take control. He sat against the wall and took deep breaths, occasionally counting to ten and saying to himself that he’d be alright. Steve peek his head inside at that moment.

        “Hey… Buck, you okay?” He crouched down next to him and removed his muzzle-like mask, only then could he breathe properly.

        “This suit brings back memories, but we should go while I still have some of my composure.” He took the mask away from him and attached it to his face again. Then they both set off for the very street that Steve and Natasha got their asses kicked. They drove in the containment van, once again under the shadows of night, to park a few blocks away. The buildings rose high into the sky and Steve remembered how in any one of the windows or ledges above she could be watching. They both decided he should stay on higher ground while Bucky patrolled the streets. Steve snuck into an old parking garage nearby and stood atop it in his navy blue stealth suit, earpiece radioed into Bucky’s if anything got hairy. They split up then, Bucky heading down to the street to watch for her, eyes peeled for anything suspicious. While he was alone he tried to think as if he were the Winter Soldier again, pulling out his past like a thorn in his side to get his past knowledge of the Emissary. The sketchy people around him took one look at the gun he wielded and faded back into the shadows with the people dealing and using drugs. So far, the Emissary was nowhere to be found.

        Everything was silent, not a word in the earpiece and or on the street. The area wasn’t the kind you’d walk around by yourself, or even with friends for that matter, and reeked of sewage from an unknown source. The place was filled with danger and uncertainty, especially since their main target hadn’t shown themselves whatsoever. Bucky mulled over his thoughts. Should he tell her he had another mission and play it off as if Hydra was still alive? Surely she’d know they were already in ruins. Somehow, the gang that was in control of her used the special words to turn her into the monster that he became. Even so, the Emissary was a dangerous person to work with, in control or not. They would have to have something over her, he thought, or maybe they were able to keep brainwashing her. Bucky was totally going in blind in this circumstance.

        “Buck.” Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Steve’s voice. “I just saw the Emissary heading in your direction I think. Be on the lookout.”

        “Right,” he sighed. Just as he said that, he heard the shuffle of feet nearby. He pointed his gun around the area, wondering if it could be her. All he could hear was his breathing. “Эмиссар,” he called out, switching to Russian. “I know you’re out there. I want to talk.” Still silence. A wind blew his hair into his face and he turned in steady circles, warily glancing around the intersection of alleyways. His gun lowered to the ground and he decided to talk into the silence, taking off his mask and letting it hang around his neck. “You know, I’ve met you before… I used to be the Winter Soldier. I’m not here to kill you. There is no more Hydra, it went down three years ago.” He stood in more silence, stationary. “Please, come out.”

        “ _The Winter Soldier_.” A voice projected from behind him, and he turned to face the person ready to attack. His eyes met the form of the Emissary, standing in the shadows, eyes stone cold and emotionless. “ _Why are you here?_ ” Her question was more of a statement in the way she voiced it but there was some sort of lingering emotion there.

        “ _I came to ask if you’d be willing to come with me._ ” She raised a brow and stepped out of the shadows cautiously. “ _Do you like knowing that you’re killing innocent people?_ ” This time, the Emissary flinched physically, eyes closing and body jolting in a singular jump. Bucky was surprised that she could be affected just by saying that. He found her weakness in the impenetrable armor Hydra built around her. When she opened her blue eyes they were filled with irritation. “What if I refuse, soldat?” She hissed.

        “ _I’ll leave you to be commanded by thugs and to your tumultuous conscious._ ” Suddenly, instead of the considering look he expected, the Emissary burst into anger and began swinging and kicking at him.

        “ _You. Want. Me. Under. Your. Command!_ ” She shouted, enforcing her point with kicks and punches thrown to his stomach. Bucky quickly tried to subdue her, grabbing both arms and pinning them on her back. He nearly forgot about her robotic leg and held it down with his arm. They struggled, mechanics whirring but in the end her leg fell limp. She was too stunned to say anything for a few seconds and Bucky took this as his chance.

        “ _Emissary, you are human. Hydra experimented on you like they did me. Do you really want to continue living your life slaughtering people and being used like a tool or an asset to something horrible?_ ” The Emissary continued to stare at him defiantly. “ Snap out of what they want you to be. Do you want to live this life?” Bucky jumped up off of her and she laid on the ground a little longer before standing. He could visibly see the malice shedding off her body and she dropped her gun and started shaking, face hidden from view. Bucky managed to snap her out of it, he was so surprised. He stepped forward and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. But he read the situation wrong.

        “I was never a tool,” she snarled in English. She sounded like she spoke it all her life. Her eyes were clear as she looked up, Bucky realizing just how much her eyes looked like bright blueberries. “I was trained to kill, to fight against the current. It’s all I’ve ever known, soldat.” She stepped close enough for Bucky to count her full, individual eyelashes. “You thought I was under their control, correct? Well I’m not. I don’t need saving. The Emissary in me is to blame, she kills whoever is set in her path and it’s not my fault someone put a monster in me. I don’t need comfort,” she spat, “the only comfort for me is knowing that I’ve made my choice.” Bucky was stunned. He stood there, not knowing what to say while the woman in front of him spoke her mind freely. She took that as an answer of sorts and grabbed her gun, eyes still focused on Bucky. “I want to live this life. Because if I don’t then I’ll be forced to.”

        “You’re avoiding the truth, ignoring it purposefully. Either way you’re killing ruthlessly!” Bucky says as she strides off, jumping onto a second floor balcony with ease. She turned around.

        “It helps me sleep at night. Why lose sleep over something you can’t change.” And with that, she climbed up onto the building and disappeared into the night. Bucky stood there for a few seconds, registering her reaction. He radioed into Steve.

        “Steve,” he started, walking back towards where he’d seen him last, “you there?”

        “Yeah Bucky, what’s going on down there?”

        “I saw her. She doesn’t want to be saved, the Emissary is there on her own free will. There’s no chance that she will surrender and come with us and I don’t know if she ever will.” On the other end of the line he heard a sigh. Buck picked his gun up and began to walk.

        “Is she a threat then? Should we put out a warrant for her arrest?”

        “No. We’ll get her some time. From what I saw I think she’s starting to break under pressure and although I don’t think we can just take her, she might come all by herself. We have to wait, Steve, I think that’s the only way to do this.”

        “A waiting game. Sounds interesting, though if she does kill someone in the next few weeks we’ll have to try to take her into custody, we can’t have someone as dangerous as her walking around freely.” They met up at the building he was on before and thought. Both ends of the conversation went silent as they both comprehended what was said. Bucky hurt at that, wondering if they had a team to round him up at any moment. Steve began to stutter. “No- no that’s not what I… Look Bucky, she doesn't have a lot of control, right?” He had so much panic in his eyes that it would’ve been funny.

        “No, Steve, I get it. She was really well put together though,” he said, solemnly. “I think it’s the fact that she has killed so many people that’s making her fall apart. If she kills someone innocent, or even a child, she’ll have hell in her head afterwards and that may be our chance.”

        “Whoa whoa whoa, a child?” Steve asked incredulously, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Wait… Have you-?” Bucky just shook his head with a dark expression.

        “No. But the Winter Soldier refused once so they had to do it themselves.” They dropped the subject faster than the Hulk dropped Loki. Steve’s brows knit together as they walked off, found their car where they left it and drove off. They were silent the whole way back.

~~~~~

        Bucky grunted, pulling himself up over the bar again and again growing more and more frustrated with each flex of his muscles. He could feel his biceps growing more and more fatigued and that angered him at his weakness. It had been hours since he started to work out and the playlist of songs he discovered since he thawed had looped four times already. Sweat beaded down his face and his dark hair hung in wet ropes around his jawline, sweats hanging low on his hips and feet bare. The air was thick with activity and the sweat evaporating off his body, fans above him spinning frantically to try and cool him off. The beats of the next song began, Fortunate Son, which was one of his favorites in the playlist, though it did nothing to help his frustration from building. With a final pull up his muscles shook with the effort and he dropped to the ground with a growl. He took a swig of water from a bottle, crushing the bottle a little with his metal arm.

        It had been several weeks since their encounter with the Emissary and the two soldiers began to doubt that she would surface. No new news in the streets of a deadly killer or recent gang activity was uncommon. It all had strangely lulled as if there would be a build up to something big and both Steve and Bucky were on edge because of it. Not a single piece of petty thievery or murder was uncovered by anyone at all. It’s as if all the gang members and sketchy people had up and vanished, though it was unlikely. Bucky wanted desperately to go undercover and roam the streets alone, but Steve was adamant in rejecting that idea. Either way, he was sure to change his mind at some point or go and do it himself. At this point it was more like a stakeout than a waiting game, one filled with uncertainty and an edge of anxiety.

        The doors burst open and Steve strode in, a towel on his shoulder and a granola bar in hand. He tossed both objects to Bucky and he accepted them thankfully with a rip of the wrapper and one big bite. Steve chuckled at his reaction to the food and turns down the stereo in the corner before leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. Bucky rolls his eyes, recognizing the stance his friend was getting into- the “I’m waiting” look- that he knew so well whenever he told Steve a lie and he knew it. Bucky knew why since he’d heard him watching him before he came in. Forever the guardian angel, he supposed.

        “You should take a break, Buck. You’re taking your frustration on your body. You might need that for later, you know, the gang activity is back on again. A store was robbed by the Skulls.” Bucky looked at Steve incredulously.

        “I thought we didn’t deal with things like that.” Steve shrugged.

        “We don’t but that could mean that either the big thing that was going to happened has already been dealt with. That could be bad or good and we’re not sure yet which one it is.” Bucky couldn’t help but let out a sigh, giving Steve a look.

        “I’m gonna go hit the showers,” Bucky declared, saying goodbye to Steve. He watched Bucky as he left, throwing the wrapper away into the trash by the entrance of the locker room. Steve took the elevator down to the street level and decided to grab a quick coffee, as it was around seven in the morning. Donned in his navy blue coat and white shirt, he stepped out onto the street and blended into the crowd. Before he could even get a block away, a hand grabbed Steve’s shoulder and whipped him around. He came face to face with Tony in his pajamas and a silk robe that had fallen open, the belt portion dragging on the ground.

        “You need to come back right now.”

        “Why, what happened?” Steve’s eyes narrowed worriedly. To see Tony out in public in an unflattering manner was rare.

        “Well the chick who beat you up just showed up at our back door beaten to a pulp.”


	4. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point onward, the story will be in the Emissary's perspective. Please leave a comment if you like this story so far, I'd love the feedback. c:

        It was hard. So difficult to make up my mind. My target was a billionaire’s daughter, only 9 years of age. Those cape flaunting Avenger people weren’t worth my time, but it wasn’t my choice. I would use them and then go. The gang that had taken me in tried to take me out using a giant magnet in a junkyard and many baseball bats. They crushed my metal leg until it was scrap metal connected to my leg like a ball and chain. A piece of my flesh melted to fuse with the metal prosthesis was pinched tightly and uncomfortably. They thought I was getting weak by not killing the girl, that they had been too lenient with me. As they tried to hurt me I took out many of the men that once had been by my side, not as a companion, but rather as fellow heartless contract killers. I knew their faces but had no sympathy as I killed them one by one. I wish I had noticed the giant magnet beside me. By the time they turned it on I was helpless, prosthetic leg malfunctioning pathetically and pinning me to the surface. I decided to get away once they had shut it off. That was the final straw. An old jalopy car that was set to be compacted was still fully functional nearby and I drove it the hell out of the junkyard. In the car I knew that I wouldn’t last. The men had cut me and beaten me to shreds and my consciousness was blurring in and out. My abdomen was caving in, blood ran down a cut on my face, my nose was broken as well as my left forearm and shin. Just driving the car made me want to pass out from the sheer pain the wracked my body in waves. I could feel my cracked ribs and scratches as I breathed. I knew in order to survive I had to make a sacrifice. Those damn Avengers, they would sure as hell be cocky as they were in their spandex and fancy gadgets. At least they could be fooled into taking care of me.

         I woke up in the car smashed into a store blocks away the Avenger’s tower, people wearing black masks with skulls on them running around into the night. They stole money and jewelry from a popular clothing store and disappeared as quickly as they came, one even saluting me and cackling as they ran away. It had to have been around two to four in the morning at that point. The Avenger’s tower wasn’t quite in sight yet, but a daring late night taxi had rolled around the corner. I opened the driver’s side door and fell out onto the ground, the world spinning as I did, hoping the taxi driver was kind enough to let me ride for free to the tower. A balding man looked out, wearing sunglasses even in the nighttime. He got out of his running car and walked to my side.

        “Ma’am are you alright?” I sputter a chuckle in response.

        “Not quite,” I decided to press my luck. “You wouldn’t mind giving a person who just crippled themselves a ride to the Avenger’s tower, would ya?”

        “Got money?” Money. Of course I didn’t have any money, but perhaps in the old jalopy there was something.

        “Anything you can find in that old car is yours, just be quick.” The older man gave me a wary look and quickly shuffled through the front and middle seats. Sooner rather than later, he popped out and began to help me up.

        “Found two dollars and forty eight cents in the seats and a Captain America exclusive trading card. That will cover for the cost and for my grandson’s birthday present.” His lean but strong body (odd for a man who drives for a living) hefted me up and into the row of back seats. He still put a seatbelt over my torso. As he got back into the taxi and began to drive off, he asked if I needed that car to be towed.

        “It was going to the dump soon anyways. It’ll be more safe in the junkyard than with me.” The man laughed.

        “I bet, maybe you should be more careful when driving, sweetheart.” I cringed at the pet name he gave me but quirked up a side of my mouth instead, to show that I had heard him the first time. The taxi slowed to a stop in front of the huge luminous tower, some windows darkened with inactivity and others with bustling light. I thanked him as I got out on my own, reassuring him that I’d be fine no matter how much the world spun on it’s head. I waited for him to leave, car crawling from the edge of the empty sidewalk out onto the road and disappearing. Coughs wracked my body, pain flooding my system and blood spattered onto the concrete below me. I used my prosthetic leg as a crutch, my other leg swelling and shooting with pain every step of the way. I couldn’t take a full breath and the effort it took to walk was hell. The clank of my metal leg echoed down the street. Looking up at the Avenger’s tower above me had my sight reeling and I leaned on a wall for support, the building growing endlessly and swaying with confusion. A couple men in black walked by, talking quietly. “She’s absolutely smashed dude, reminds me of last night,” one said, followed by laughter.

        Hide. I needed to hide. I could be seen by anybody and the gang I was in could find me again and force me back into their ranks. Leg clanking rapidly against the ground, I limped into a side alleyway behind the Avenger’s building and collapsed. Black spots swirled around me and I heard sirens off in the distance, distorting and wailing into the night. All around me was dark, the orange street light reaching a foot in front of me before cutting off. Everything was swelling, I could feel it stretching my skin and augmenting it into different colors. I was alone, shaking like a leaf. I hated the vulnerability with my whole being, jaw clenching staving off the pinch behind my eyes. My body sagged against the cold concrete, body going limp.

~~~~

        “Should we get Buck down here?” A voice stabbed a hole into the black veil of unconsciousness, letting in the bright light of sunshine. Oh god, everything hurt to the point of numbness. I felt unbearably hot and more than uncomfortable. A ringing in my head and stomach kept me from opening my eyes. Where was I? Who was that? My throat was too dry to speak and my condition kept me from rebellion. Hell, it felt like I didn’t want to. Whoever found me was concerned. It didn’t matter to me what happened, even the sweet release of death seemed better than my condition. There were shuffling feet and two fingers were pressed against my throat, muscles tensing visibly around the area. I blacked out again.

        The next time I awoke a cold arm was sliding under my back, causing pain to shoot everywhere. I choked out a sound of protest but was prisoner to the sensation. I was carried out of the hot sun and into a cool building. They laid me on a gurney and wheeled me off to what I assumed was the infirmary. The bright white ceiling practically forced my tired eyes shut but I continued to stay conscious. I felt a poke in my arm and the familiar feeling of a needle sliding under my skin. My eyes flew open as a panic surged through me. **Hydra. Needles. Writhing in pain. The feeling of muscles swelling under my skin. Rubber mouth guard stifling my cries for help.** My vision was strained and swirling around the room as I tried to jump up from the gurney, grappling against the person harming me. The nurse fell backwards and I scrambled to get up, two people holding me down by my arms and legs.

        “No!” I shouted, voice cracking and pain wracking my body. “Stop!” I repeated over and over. **Lab coats, strange liquids, pokes and prods, pain both sharp stabs and dull mind-numbing aches.** In my hysteria, a person I recognized stood at my elbow, holding my face in between calloused hands.

        “Elaine!” I heard him say. My name. I… what…? “Relax, you’re okay.” I couldn’t control my breathing. My eyes darted to where I had heard it. The Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes. The two people restraining me swam into my vision as Stark and Rogers, but the Winter Soldier commanded the space. He spoke to the nurse and she handed over the needle, fear growing ever more present. “Elaine,” that time it felt warm, “You’re okay. You’re in good hands. Do you want me to do it for you?” The only reply I could muster was muttering no over and over again. “You’re going to die if you don’t.” Something was horribly wrong. As I looked into his face, all movement stilled. I remembered him. A memory came surging back into my consciousness that brought with it a tidal wave of emotion. The ache of broken ribs in my chest was nothing compared to the gut twisting feeling of recognition. I could feel a trickle of blood exiting my lips.

        “I- I remember…” I tasted the heavy words on my lips mixing with the copper of blood. “I remember you now.” He looked down at me with his striking eyes. I attempted to lift my arm to his face, but was too fatigued to get it more than a foot off the gurney. He still held the offending needle in his hands and I could see the colors beginning to fade around the corners. “Save me Bucky, please.” He delicately took my wrist and injected the needle inside, cold liquid shuddering through my veins with every exhausted pump of my heart. I blacked out once again.


	5. Memory pt.1

     Hydra was no home, but I remember that the closest thing I had to comfort was Bucky. I only remembered him in fragments, little bits of emotions that were born from the rare moments we were left alone. At first, they wanted us to have a child. They kept us in enclosed spaces, our training and brain numbing commands unable to process the task of making a child. We were used to killing and fighting, not making love. They realized that even with aphrodisiacs, the serum would quickly pump it out of our systems. In a last ditch effort, they left us alone for a week. That was a mistake on their part. It was the memory that unhinged their hard work of brainwashing me.

     Bucky had memories of his past, I did not, but the memories of him had me breaking out of my brainwashed state. He was frequented by memories during his expeditions and continued on because of his strong sense of duty. During that week that we were left alone, Bucky had gained a better sense of what he was like before Hydra. I discovered myself through him.

     The start of that week was like a blur. We had both been on a mission to take over a government facility and we were caked in blood. They threw us into a cold, dark place with open showers like at a swimming pool, locking the door behind us. There was a queen sized bed like a motel’s shoved into the corner of the room, a small table with a few stools. No cupboards or drawers, nowhere to hide, and most importantly, no weapons. The last thing they told us before slamming and locking the door was, “Вести себя,” or behave. The bare lightbulb in the middle of the room swung back and forth, taunting the two soldiers stuck inside the room.

     I remember the dead-eyed look he had on his face. It wasn’t a look of boredom or of absent-mindedness but rather of a soldier determined to wait for command. I wasn’t afraid. I knew I was stronger than him in many ways. He continued to stand but I decided to sit on a stool in the table. When I was more conscious in my own mind I remembered seeing scratches of the Russian words designed to keep me in control, written crudely into the dry wood as a serial killer would have done. I suppose it would have been correct in my circumstance. I had killed many. The first day in our new environment was spent in silence. Our combat gear creaked and rained flakes of blood from our enemies. After hours of standing and pacing, waiting for people to come back and command us, the Winter Soldier sank to the ground in the corner staring off into space. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized in his state of staring, he was thinking, trying to piece together who he was. Neither of us slept. At some point during the second day- or maybe it was the first- bandages and new clothing was rolled onto the floor through a slat in the door, followed by two plates of food shoved to the floor. I trained my eyes to the area, suspicious of why those items were put there. Bucky, however, stood and grabbed the bandages and clothes. A silhouette of blood on the wall was the only evidence he had been there. I heard the shower turn on in the other room away from where I could see.

     In the shower I heard him grunting and groaning, obviously in a state of pain. Something in me told me to check on him, so I did, peering around the corner. He was struggling to get the top part of his armor off, wincing at every move. Bucky saw me approach and paused, staring at me. We stood there, watching each other for a while until I walked forward and grabbed the heavy battle gear stuck on his frame. He shouted in pain as I ripped it from his frame, finding resistance on his back. Blood hit the floor. There was a huge gash in his back, possibly from a bayonet or knife. He glared at me through the curtain of his dark hair. The whole of his back was caked in dried blood, something that would haunt my memories for a while.

     The wound itself was not too deep but long and angry. I heard a shuffling from the other room and went to find sutures and antiseptic presented at the door. They wanted me to stitch him up. The Emissary in me calibrated to the task and soon I was washing the blood from his skin delicately. The more I worked to help him with his wounds, his back hunched in front of me, the more I could feel myself relax and the tunnel vision releasing me. Suddenly more aware of my surroundings, my hands shook and Bucky could feel it. He blinked around his shoulder like a cat, this time a crease between his brows. At that moment, I was no longer the Emissary, but at the time I didn’t know what it meant. I could remember my name again, where I came from. The memories came back and I bit back tears. I was afraid of holding them back as if the tunnel would close up again if I did, but none fell. I stared at the skin of his back, raw from irritation but so much like my own. He was the first to speak in a hushed tone, voice barely audible above the water for anyone other than us.

     “Do you remember?” The sound of the water hitting the ground seemed to fall away. I looked down like I had been reprimanded, only to see blood caking my uniform. Bile rose in my throat but I forced it down.

     “Yeah,” I choked out, “now I do.” I took a deep breath, ignoring the smell of copper in the air and continuing to work. When he was free from the blood, he re-situated on the wall opposite to the running shower. I sutured his back shut, putting a thick layer of salve over the wound and bandaging it tightly. Bucky relaxed against the cool tile wall, peeling off his combat boots and set them by the drain. Right in that spot, he fell asleep. I cleaned myself up, glancing at him breathing deeply to make sure he was still sleeping. The tile beneath me had puddles of pink and flakes. I was shaken from the sight, grabbing a towel from the corner and wiping myself down before putting on the clothes that appeared from the slot. I fell asleep on the bed.

     The next day I woke before he did from the sound of breakfast delivered through our door. I got up, peering around the corner at Bucky, who was still slumped against the wall. I took the plates of food and put them on the table before walking over to Bucky and shaking his shoulder. His eyes snapped open but he took his time getting up, wincing with pain and rolling his sore shoulders as he stood. I was wary of him now, the desire to fight drained out of me. It was like I had my shadow ripped from my edges, an infernal part of me gone with the wind. Either way, we were both hungry. We sat down to eat, digging into our food. I became more curious of who he was.

     “Who are you?” I asked when we were both done. He looked up at me, remorse and pain written on his face.

     “I’m the Winter Soldier.” He looked down at the table, the both of us noticing that under his plate were the words I had inscribed the first day there. “But I remember my real name still.”

     “What is it?” I prodded further, a little more daring with some food in my system.

     “Why do you want to know?” He asked, lifting his steely eyes to meet mine. I swallowed, not knowing what else to say. There really was no reason. We lapsed into silence and he stood from the table, grabbing his clothes left on the end of the bed. He still had his muddy combat pants on. He turned as he was about to enter the showers, a look of calm grief. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” I perked up, looking at him and nodding thankfully. “But most people call me Bucky.” I stood and went to shake his hand.

     “I’m Eliane Coopertin.” He took my hand and firmly shook it.


End file.
